


Cupid's Cattery

by SweetSorcery, writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Sex, Blind Date, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Cat Ears, Collars, Coming Out, Consensual Somnophilia, Dom/sub, Dominance, Don’t copy to another site, Exhibitionism, First Kiss, First Time, Friendship, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, Lapdance, Leashes, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Master/Pet, Porn with Feelings, Public Display of Affection, Rimming, Romance, Scheming, Seduction, Shower Sex, Sleep Sex, Smitten Original Percival Graves, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 01:24:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17777921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery, https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Credence finds himself the unwitting target of a plot concocted between Cupid, Queenie... and a secret admirer he has yet to meet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arikethtae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arikethtae/gifts).



> Happy Valentine's Day 2019, fellow Gradence fen! 💕
> 
> Arikethtae came up with an intriguing situation into which to throw a not-quite-out-of-the-closet Credence, and is also responsible for Percy's collar and leash. Hopefully, she'll like what writingramblr and I did to her idea. Personally, I'm not sure it's safe to unleash us both onto this pairing together. 😏
> 
> If you're curious—the song Percy dances to is The Cure's _Love Cats_.
> 
>   
> 

_‘Come dance with some beautiful people, not including me,’_ Queenie had said with a giggle, and Credence, like a fool, had agreed. He didn’t ask enough questions, didn’t google the name of the club, which, in hindsight, should’ve stuck out like a sore thumb. **Cupid’s Cattery**. Subtle. 

He walks in and is practically blinded by the pink from decor and exposed skin. Credence knows very well that Queenie’s favorite color is pink, and he knows further how much she loves to play jokes on him, as well as everyone in their shared family, but this goes a bit beyond that. Credence feels a shiver run down his spine the further he gets into the club, a glance towards the bar tells him she’s not here yet, and a quick peek at the stage reveals a silver shiny pole with someone in cat ears twirling around it. 

He’s certain it’s a guy, even though the person is wearing bright red lipstick, which somehow doesn’t clash with their ginger hair. Willowy and graceful, the dancer bends and dances in a way Credence didn’t know was possible, though it goes well with the cat ears he's wearing, and sends him a wink. Before he can squeak in embarrassment, a tall brunette approaches him, and he realizes it’s Tina. 

“Hey! There you are. Queenie said you’d probably beat her getting here. She’s chronically late, ever since she was three minutes early being born.”

She laughs, and Credence tries to echo it. His nerves won’t really let him.

“Come on, lemme buy your first drink to apologize for her tardiness. Leta! Gin and tonic for me, jack and coke for my adopted brother please.” The girl behind the bar seems to be dressed normally, until she turns around after winking at Tina, and reveals a swishy purple tail sitting just above the curve of her ass.

“Why is everyone so flirty here?” Credence stammers, and Tina laughs.

“It’s a strip club, silly. Everyone wants your money, so they’re super sweet. But don’t worry, you look cute as ever, too.” 

“A… _strip_ club?” Credence imagines he looks flummoxed at best and like a fool at worst. Tina seems to be struggling not to laugh at his expression.

“Oh man, she didn’t tell you?” Tina snickers. “That’s Queenie for you.”

“She told me to come and dance with some beautiful people.” Credence frowns, his eyes drawn to the redhead wrapped around that pole again. “I don’t see how anyone here dances _with_ anyone.”

Tina is grinning now. “Oh, there are ways, Credence. Watch for a bit. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Before he can ask for clarification on that vaguely suggestive statement, she tugs him over to a table near the stage and gently nudges him into a chair.

“I don’t know, Tina, I’m not sure I’m comfortable—” She’s already gone, heading back to the bar, and he reluctantly looks back to the stage, kind of sideways, not really wanting to look, but not quite able to resist, either. It’s not that a good-looking guy wearing lipstick and doing… things to a pole is something he hates to see. What actually worries him is the fact that he doesn’t hate it, even though all he’s ever heard growing up has made him think that he should.

Cat ears on the stage is facing away from the pole now, bending forward and playfully reaching out long arms, and Credence’s eyes widen when he sees the gloves feature clawed fingers. While that’s kind of cute, the next thing he notices is the way the dancer is wriggling, and Credence’s jaw drops when he realizes he’s grinding back against the pole, sliding up and down with the cool metal right between his scantily clad ass cheeks. He thinks that can't possibly be sanitary, much less sexy. 

And yet, the crowd is going _wild_. They’re completely bonkers. Or just very thirsty.

“Hey, honey.” Queenie is suddenly in the chair next to him. She’s set down his drink in front of him. “Tina says this is yours.”

“Oh, hi Queenie. Thanks.” Credence determinedly doesn’t look back at the stage when a loud cheer erupts somewhere nearby.

“Will you look at that!” she squeals.

“No, thank you!” Credence knows he sounds a little bit panicked, and he doesn’t blame her for giggling. Even so… “You didn’t tell me it was this kind of club.” He knows he sounds petulant.

Queenie pretends to look chastised. “Would you have come if I’d told you?” His face answers for him, and she grins as if she’s somehow vindicated.

The song that’s been playing comes to an end, and there’s applause, but Credence doesn’t look at the stage, examining his drink closely instead. He’s hiding behind a curl of black hair falling over the back of his hand but, clearly, he didn’t hide successfully enough.

“Hey there,” someone says. “How about a dance?”

Credence looks up to find himself face to crotch with cat ears. He quickly looks up and croaks, “No, thanks.”

Green eyes look down at him, and the guy shrugs. “Pity. You’re cute.” He quirks a quick smile and wanders off and out of sight.

“Not your type?” Queenie asks conversationally. She’s sipping her drink through a straw and craning her neck, as if she’s waiting for someone.

“Not really.” Credence frowns. He’s halfway into pondering exactly what his type actually is, when it occurs to him he didn’t bother claiming men were not. He sighs, thinking there’s probably no point now. Besides… Queenie has, more than once, caught him looking a little too long at certain customers at the bakery—customers who were male, notably older than himself, dark and a little bit dangerous looking, and well put together. He figures that’s his type, and she knows it.

She stops her seeking glances around the club, looking suddenly very pleased with herself, and completely ignores the next guy stepping up onto the stage in favour of observing Credence.

Credence doesn’t look right away, only turning his head when her silent scrutiny begins to unsettle him.

The man up on the stage looks fully dressed, in tight-fitting leather trousers and a loose jacket to match, which is a change to the previous performer. His back is to Credence at that point and, for some reason, he has his right arm looped through the back of a chair he’s brought up onto the stage.

Credence tries not to dwell on the rear view—which, no longer surprising in this place, includes a long black tail dangling down from his butt. He looks up at the dark, silver-streaked hair, cropped short around the sides, but looking soft and smooth on the crown of his head—from the midst of it peek a pair of panther ears, barely visible against the dark hair. He wonders why the man is turning in a slow circle, looking around the club and ignoring the hushed murmurs and several arms raised in the air as if to draw his attention.

Once he’s done a three-quarter turn, he’s facing fully towards Credence, who doesn’t notice Queenie grinning to herself. He’s too busy staring at the so far unseen front of the man: handsome face, slight smile, dark eyes and darker brows. The leather jacket is open, and he’s wearing nothing underneath it, except for a wide studded collar around his neck from which… Credence gulps… a short silver chain ending in a significantly longer leather leash dangles.

The chain swings gently back and forth across the deeply tanned abdomen, and the leash ends well below the man’s knees, hanging down between his legs when he stops, sets down the chair in front of himself with a thud, and leans over the back of it with one hand on the seat. And then he beckons with one arm outstretched, index finger crooking, and a smirk around his lips. He beckons to Credence.

“I think he’s looking at you, honey,” Queenie supplies helpfully.

“Why?” Credence croaks, feeling a little dizzy. “Why is he looking at me?” 

She laughs. “Because he’s waiting to give you the lap dance I bought for you.” When Credence stares at her, she explains, “Well, I was late. I thought I’d make it up to you with a little gift.”

A little gift.

Credence feels his mouth go dry. He stares up at the man waiting patiently, though the crowd is starting to get impatient, judging by all the commotion. Quite probably, if he doesn’t do something, the lap dance will go to someone else. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s terrified of going up there in front of all these people. Credence has no idea what he’s expected to do. Or not to do. He does know one thing: he doesn’t want anyone else to go up there in his place.

Credence only fully realizes he’s stood up and is approaching the stage when cheers break out. There are a couple of steps leading up to the stage, and he climbs them on shaky legs, vaguely wondering if the man on the stage has mesmerized him.

The dancer straightens up, arm now outstretched to help Credence up the last, fairly substantial step and, before he knows it, he’s being hauled up with one hand in his, and one arm around his waist. The arm is only around him long enough for him to feel the chain and leash pressing into his front, and then he’s being led to the chair. 

Credence turns to face the dancer, who winks at him and, after a wholly unexpected stroke over his hair, pushes him down to sit on the chair.

He gulps when the man leans down and purrs, “Well hello, Credence.”

“Uh… yes, I am…” He almost adds ‘sir’, for reasons he can’t begin to imagine, except maybe the fact that the man is quite a few years older than himself, in his mid-30s he assumes. He also can’t imagine how he knows his name; did Queenie tell him?

“Relax, Credence. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Credence almost laughs hysterically. He’s sitting on a stage, surrounded by strangers, and a not quite half naked man is about to dance… for him? With him? On him? He barely even knows. “Okay,” he croaks.

The dancer chuckles, but it’s a deep, warm sound which, surprisingly, does go a long way towards relaxing Credence. Then the man stands right in front of him and, in the silence of the club, snaps his fingers up in the air. Instantly, music starts up, and it’s not the kind of thing Credence was expecting at all. He nearly laughs at the playfully screeching cats at the beginning of the song.

The man takes a few steps back, only to start circling Credence on the chair, gradually prowling nearer and, by the second circle, he’s begun to shrug out of his leather jacket. It’s dangling off his broad shoulders when he comes back around into view. He does a smooth spin in place, right in front of Credence, long cat tail whipping in a circle and almost grazing Credence’s lap, and the jacket falls off his arms, to be caught and twirled a couple of times above the man’s head and tossed aside.

Anyone in the club who wasn’t fully aware of the collar and leash is now, and there are a few whistles and catcalls.

They sound muffled to Credence’s ears. His gaze is fixed on the play of lean muscles in the man’s shoulders and arms, and the gentle rippling of his muscled torso. And then it’s all out of sight again, but there’s a sudden heat, a presence, behind him, and fingers are combing back through his hair with gentle pressure, before sliding down his nape and outwards along his shoulders. He shivers, glad there are enough lights all around the stage that he can’t see Queenie watching and probably laughing at how overwhelmed he must look.

Suddenly, the fingers tighten in his hair, and his head is pulled back. It’s not painful, but unexpected, and Credence stares up and back at the dancer, mouth open, and the handsome face is suddenly very close, as a soft growl blows warm breath over his parted lips. His eyes flutter closed.

A hand is on his chin then, grazing lightly along the underside of his jaw, and he feels the solid mass of the other man’s stomach against the back of his head as his hair is slowly released.

He feels dazed when his head is upright again, just in time to see the dancer face away from him, legs wide apart, to lower himself onto Credence’s thighs. Just before he sits, he reaches back and draws his tail up between Credence’s thighs, letting it swipe playfully up his chest and his neck; it’s baby-soft and ends up resting over Credence’s right shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, the warm, musky scent of the man and the closeness of the smooth back glowing under the stage lights are suddenly overwhelming. Credence is fairly sure he’s not feeling the full weight of the man on his lap, but it’s just as well, as the slow back and forth motion is already putting him into quite a state. He hopes there’s not too much of the song to go. Or does he?

Hands are suddenly on his thighs, fingers tightening, when the dancer pushes himself forward and up, but the momentary relief of the weight disappearing off his lap is short-lived when a smooth turn has him spinning around and sitting back down, hands now on Credence’s shoulders.

“How are you coping, Credence?”

He thinks he might cope better without that low purr, especially going along, as it does, with the heat of leather-clad legs and buttocks sliding over his lap. “Uh…”

The dancer leans in close, murmuring into his ear, “I’m Percy, by the way. And you look positively delicious when you’re flustered.”

Credence is in so much trouble. He has no idea if this happens to everyone during a lap dance, or if it would be okay if he asked Percy to stop now before his problem becomes obvious for the entire club to see. All he can do is stare up into the dark eyes meeting his, and he’s sure Percy can tell the kind of state he’s in even if he can’t feel it. Yet.

“Do you think I should fluster you a little more?” Credence is asked then, and he can only whimper when Percy shifts his weight a little from side to side, nudging his thighs closer together even as he moves forward.

“Oh no,” Credence gasps, his fingers clutching the edges of the chair seat hard, and he can’t help the way his hips twitch forward just a little, meeting Percy’s. His jaw drops when he feels Percy hard against him. Somehow, he didn’t expect that. And he’s wholly unprepared for how the sensation trumps even his embarrassment.

That’s when Percy slides his hips back, pushing himself off Credence’s lap with his hands back on his thighs. Before he retreats fully, he tells him huskily, “That doesn’t usually happen to me while dancing.”

He finishes the dance in front of Credence, where he slowly goes down on his knees, crawling back towards him. His hands cup bony knees, and he pushes them apart.

Credence can’t even imagine how flushed he must look when Percy slinks between his parted legs and growls up at him. Clearly, the man doesn’t have to sit on him to make him even harder. He can’t believe the effect all this is having on him—the growling, the crawling, the challenge in the dark eyes. And then Percy turns the heat up another notch.

He sits back on his haunches, bowing his head and, a moment later, he looks up at him again. This time, he’s holding the leash between his teeth, and he’s crawling as close to Credence’s groin as he can. He lowers his head, nuzzling against his hard cock straining the fabric of his jeans, and makes a soft whimpering noise. Then he looks up pleadingly.

Credence swallows hard. He has practically forgotten where he is, and that he never meant to be here. He reaches out with his left hand to stroke over Percy’s hair and, with his right, he takes hold of the leash, which Percy releases from his jaws the moment he has a good grip on it.

“If you follow me, to our very own private room, I can help you with that.” The man’s gaze drops to his crotch, and he smirks a little. 

Credence can’t really think straight, to be fair, he’s only just come to terms with knowing that _he’s_ not straight, but he follows Percy in a bit of a daze, ignoring the applause and whoops from the audience, down the steps of the stage, towards a narrow hallway.

It grows narrower by the second, although that may be more due to the alcohol he’s consumed, and less to do with reality.

Percy stops outside of a gaudy purple and pink splashed door, before jerking his head towards the handle. “I’m just a cub, I can’t open it for you, darling.”

Credence makes a little noise inside the back of his throat, and then reaches for the handle.

Once it opens smoothly, Percy crawls in first, and then goes to stand beside the center stage, far too small for more than one person. “Finally. Alone at last. Go sit down, and I’ll heel to you.”

Now securely inside the room, Credence's heartbeat thunders in his ears, pulse racing at the realization that just as the man has said, they're all alone. _Alone at last._ Those are the exact words Percy just used, and Credence stifles a whimper, going to sit as he's directed.

When Percy begins to crawl over to him, it's only after he's checked that the door is locked. Then Percy is nuzzling his face into the juncture of Credence's thighs, barely avoiding his groin.

His erection is more than obvious, its shameful. Credence swallows thickly, and puts a hand to that silver streaked hair, before asking if he can even do that. Is he allowed to touch the stripper? "Can I—?"

"Of course. This is for you. From me." Percy says.

Credence needs to ask something else, he's sure, but it's really quite hard to focus when the man is rubbing his nose along the hard line of his cock. "How much is this gonna cost?" he finally gets out, and Percy grins.

"Don’t worry so much sweetheart, you're all taken care of. Now, let me get that gorgeous cock into my mouth, hmmm?"

Credence’s head falls back against the edge of the seat, and he's gulping desperately for much needed air.

Percy puts a hand to his crotch, tugging the zip of his jeans down and freeing his aching cock. He doesn’t stop there, tugging them down over Credence’s hips and pulling them all the way down to his ankles, while Credence fights not to keel over.

Credence barely gets a chance to blink before Percy swallows around the tip of him, his tongue wicked hot, slippery wet, pressing against his slit. Credence can only think dazedly, _this is the first time anyone or any part of another human being has touched him_.

It feels like heaven.

It is simply pure... magic.

He never wants it to end, but Percy's lips encircle him, as his cock is taken deeper into the man’s mouth. Credence puts both hands on him, one thrusting into Percy's hair, petting over his fake ears, the other gripping his bare shoulder, slick with sweat. Credence can feel the coil of heat in his gut, tightening with every stroke of Percy's mouth, each lap of his tongue, curling against the underside of his cock.

The man moans around the length of him, and then pulls back, swallowing around him.

Credence can barely control himself, hips rocking forward, forcing his cock into the back of Percy's throat. "I don't want to hurt you—" Credence feels his voice breaking off in a whine from pure distraction, and that's when he knows, Percy doesn't mind.

He likes the pain, judging by how he leans into Credence's hand, as his fingers grip the man’s hair, blunt nails scraping Percy’s scalp. Saliva is shiny on Percy's chin, he’s fairly drooling around Credence's cock, his spit dripping on his bare thighs.

He’s so exposed to Percy’s heated gaze and, instead of embarrassing him, it makes everything even more exciting. After only a few more moments of those perfect sensations and sights, Credence's brain completely shorts out. His eyes squeeze shut tightly, as his vision goes pure white, and he comes.

Percy gulps down his release, thick spurts of warmth that pool in his mouth, making Credence feel wicked. He forces his eyes open and sees some of his semen spilling out of Percy's mouth, adding to the mess of his chin. It's even getting on the man’s leather pants, and Credence is unable to stop himself groaning, half in shock, half from bliss. His body still trembles with shockwaves from his orgasm, cock spending even as his comedown begins.

He's over-sensitive but Percy doesn't let him out of his mouth. Credence is trapped in a prison that narrows to the man’s lips, his tongue and a sudden hand that rises, cupping and teasing over his balls through the fabric of his boxers. Credence's cock begins to wilt, and finally he’s free from Percy's ministrations.

“Oh god." He gasps, and Percy's answering smirk is evil, but somehow Credence is going hot in the face, and smiling back sheepishly, rather than making an indignant noise. Then again, judging by the spluttery squeaks instead of actual words that he's saying, perhaps he's done both.

"Good for you, Master?" Percy asks, and Credence's softening cock twitches impossibly.

“What? Oh my god... yes it was so amazing, thank you. Thank you so much.”

"You're so welcome... Master. " Percy answers, with a playful snap of his teeth and an eager grin.

That term is enough to make Credence’s breathing hitch. The stripper’s collar gleams in the light, and Credence looks down, eyes widening at the sight of the large bulge in Percy’s shiny leather pants. "Oh! Is there anything I can do for you, Percy? Is that allowed?" Credence swallows and sits up straight, unable to redress himself, or perhaps unwilling. Something inside his gut tells him they aren’t done.

Percy tilts his head, and shuffles close again, resting his chin on Credence's bare knee, blinking sweetly up at him. "What would you like to do to me, Master? Jerk me off? Watch me touch myself? Finger my hole open for you?" Percy bites his bottom lip, and doesn't seem to notice Credence’s brain shorting out again.

"Uh, can we start with you taking off the rest of your clothing? Please." Credence is desperate to see the man naked. He's nervous about doing anything to Percy, considering how little he knows about gay sex. But the least he could do is please Percy by touching him as he's touched himself plenty of times.

The leash is all that stays on, and the man uses it like some kind of hypnotizing twirling baton. Percy’s leather pants get shoved down his hips and reveal a narrow vee that highlights his cock, framed by a dark swirl of pubic hair. Credence's mouth waters, but Percy isn't done yet. He gets the pants off, kicks them away with a bony ankle, before turning around, glancing back to Credence, biting the leather strap on the leash.

Now he can ogle Percy's naked and muscled back, the lush curve of his ass, above which are two perfect indents; Credence thinks they must be the equivalent of cheek dimples one might have on their face. 

"Shall I spread myself?" Percy asks, reaching down to palm his ass, pulling each half apart to bare a pink and pale cleft, at the bottom of which is a pink hole. The man's body is entirely free of hair, from the back. 

Credence blushes harder, well aware just how unkempt his backside is. Like the women Credence has seen for brief moments in heterosexual porn, Percy only seems to have a scattering of chest and pubic hair for decoration. Credence can hardly believe it.

"Should I masturbate for you?" Percy asks, when he doesn't hear anything from Credence.

As Percy watches him, he knows he’s just sitting there like a bump on a log, his jaw agape, and then Credence blinks, returning to awareness. This gorgeous man wants to please him further.

Percy, still down to his knees, ass up, turns, crawling towards Credence to climb onto the bench beside him. His legs splay open, thighs wide so Credence can see the soft swells of his balls, as Percy's broad palm settles over his cock. It's hard enough to curve into his abs, but as he pushes it down, Credence watches the man's hand stroke to the base. The head peeks out from a cap of flesh, reddened and drooling with clear sticky fluid.

Credence whimpers at the sight.

Percy echoes his sound, pouting. "Please Master, tell me what to do for you."

Credence inhales shakily. “I'm a virgin. I've never... I mean. I'm also in the closet. Or I... was. But I've never wanted someone so much as when I saw you."

Percy smiles gently at him, the mask of his pet role slipping away for a moment, it seems. "If you want to put your mouth on me, I promise it'll be pleasant for us both. I've been drinking water and pineapple juice all day, it makes jizz taste sweeter. I had no idea this was going to happen for me tonight, but it's a delight. I'm so glad you chose to visit my club tonight." Percy finishes by settling a hand on Credence's, both of which are jammed together in his lap, where he nervously twiddles his thumbs.

"I didn't exactly choose it, if I'm being honest, my friend tricked me...Wait, _your_ club? Do you own this place?"

Percy chuckles, “Technically I co-own it with a couple of silent partners who don't want their names on the lease and all the boring paperwork. Owning a fetish club isn't their life goal. For me, it kind of was. Being a business owner, at least."

Credence blinks, stunned. "I would never have guessed..."

Percy worries his bottom lip. "It's kind of silly, but I get to do what I love. Dancing, being appreciated for my hard work and the effort I put into my looks. However, you're the first customer I've allowed to buy a dance from me. Now, this too is all new territory for me. I may not have been a virgin in a while, but I do understand what it's like. So we can go slow, do whatever you like. Truly, this, tonight, is on me."

Credence licks his lips, and sighs heavily. "But why, I’m just a—”

"You're not _just_ anyone." Percy leans in, “What if I told you that I knew you would be here tonight?”

Credence inhales sharply. “Are you a psychic in your off time?”

Percy chuckles warmly, “Sweet boy, no. I only mean your coming here was not an accident nor was it supposed to be a trick. Think of it as more of a… half blind date.”

“You… knew about me?” Credence is thrown for a loop, though he instantly suspects Queenie had a lot to do with all this. She seemed to know something, earlier.

Percy explains. “I came into Kowalski’s one day last week—you know Queenie and Jacob are regulars here?”

Credence shakes his head. He didn’t know that, though Queenie had clearly been here before when she invited him. What really baffles him is something else, though. “I didn’t notice you. I would have…” He blushes. “I definitely would have noticed _you_ coming into Kowalski's.”

“I’m flattered,” Percy says with a smirk. “You were very busy, piling up cinnamon rolls in a basket. You looked quite flustered and rushed, and absolutely delectable. I’m afraid I completely forgot what I even came into the shop for that day.” He laughs at Credence’s deepening blush. “I may have pleaded with Queenie to bring you here as soon as possible, to my home turf, so to speak, in hopes I’d get a chance to get your attention.”

“You definitely did that,” Credence croaks, not used to being wanted like that, and more out of his depth than ever.

Percy takes pity on him. “Now, awkwardness aside, how about a kiss to start us off slow, hmm?”

* * *

The deer in the headlights look the boy is sporting shouldn't be as attractive as it is. But Percy finds himself helpless, charmed by this alluring creature, with pale skin and big dark eyes. His pink plush mouth is almost demanding of a kiss, so how can he resist when he sees Credence nodding?

“If you're my date, you're already one up on me. I practically owe you an orgasm, Percy. Please, kiss me.”

Oh, how Percy loves the sound of his name on those lips, the peek of that tongue. His cock twitches under his palm.

When Credence’s lips brush against his, he moans softly, and Percy leans in closer, gentle but firm, using his tongue to slip into that perfect mouth, chasing after the boy’s tongue. He tastes like bitter sweet honey, evidence of the coke and whiskey he’s drunk, and Percy needs more of it. Not that he’s not plenty aroused, Credence is just addictive.

He can almost ignore his own erection, steadily oozing precum until it’s leaking down his thigh, in favor of devouring Credence’s lips, and all the sounds he makes as he’s being tongue fucked by Percy.

When he lets Credence take a much needed breath, the dazed look in his eyes and the damp, swollen lips almost make him lean right in again for more, but he doesn’t want the boy passing out. Instead, he helps him get acquainted with a body that’s not his own, to get him over his initial shyness.

“Do you want to touch me? I’ll put on a show for you, but if you want to help, I’m all for it.”

Credence drops his gaze to take in his dripping cock. It must be obvious, even to a virgin, that it won’t take much to push him over the edge, and he reaches out tentatively.

“You can be firm with me, you know. I can take whatever you can give,” Percy tells him.

“Do you… want me to be? A little rough?” The boy chuckles. “Not that I have a clue how.”

Percy strokes his cheek, thumb tracing along the corner of Credence’s mouth. “I think you like that I’m wearing this, don’t you?” He nods down at the leash and, by extension, means the collar as well.

Credence nods vigorously, then blushes.

Percy laughs. “You’re adorable, do you know that?” He takes the boy’s hand and folds it around his cock, groaning at the feel and the little moan Credence makes. “I would just love to be tamed by a sweet, gentle master like you. You don’t have to be rough with me, but if you’d like to try it, I’m all yours.”

Credence gives him a wide-eyed look. He’s licking his lips while he watches Percy’s hand over his own, and the way he makes it move and tighten. “What happens if I don’t manage to tame you? Will you eat me?”

Percy leans in to nuzzle against the side of his neck, then bites down tenderly. “Only if you want me to.”

Credence laughs nervously. “You’re very kind for a wildcat.” His breath hitches when the light nibbling continues. The way his hand keeps getting wetter and stickier isn’t helping either. And the leash… oh, the chain is a cool tease against his stomach, but the leather end slithers back and forth across his reawakening cock like a caress.

“I’m only as wild as you want me to be, Master.”

A little whimper gives the boy away, and he admits, “I really like you calling me that.”

“So I see.” Percy smirks at the sight of Credence, hard again already. He admires the slender length of him, the flushed tip dripping into the patch of dark hair surrounding it. “Mmm. I would just love that inside me.”

“Oh god,” Credence gasps. “I… I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” Percy is very confident about that. “If you take me from behind, it’ll be easier. Less likely to hurt, and maybe less awkward for you, the first time?”

Credence only takes a moment before he nods.

Percy smiles, and reaches below the stage they’re sitting on. There’s a hidden drawer, from which he extracts a new, unopened tube of lube. “Do you want to watch me open myself up for you, or do you want to help, Master?”

“Uh… watch?”

His smile widening, Percy spreads his thighs further apart, reaching between them and going to work.

Credence watches, mesmerized, while he fingers himself open slowly, moaning softly when he sees the way Percy’s hole opens up and widens, glistening now with lube. He whimpers in sympathy when Percy jolts a little, groaning. “Does it hurt?”

“No. In fact, if the angle is just right, it feels wonderful.”

Credence swallows. “Maybe I do want to help, a little?”

Very pleased to hear that, Percy takes Credence’s right wrist, drawing his hand between his thighs and coating his fingers in yet more lube, just before letting go. Then he leans back, making access even easier.

Credence is on his knees now, wishing he’d taken his jeans off completely. He’s concentrating hard, gasping when his fingers—two of them, less than Percy was already using—slide inside Percy easily. “Oh,” he says softly, stroking them in and out with unexpected ease. “You feel so hot inside.”

Percy moans. “Master, you make me feel hot all over.” He holds Credence’s eyes, and they’ve gone darker, and he thinks… knows, that this is it. The boy wants him, maybe as much as he wants Credence.

Credence picks up the pace once it’s clear he’s doing it right, and when Percy groans on a particularly deep, accidentally slightly crooked thrust of his fingers, he asks, “Ready?”

“I sure am.” Percy reluctantly moves back, only to turn around and kneel in front of Credence, facing away from him. “Please, Master, I’m all yours.”

Credence feels a little dizzy to be given that kind of power, but he sees the way Percy arches his back, very feline, and presents his smooth, tight ass to him, knees apart, hole wide open and glistening invitingly. He moves in, guiding himself to it carefully, nudging at first and just letting the head slip in. Even that’s almost enough to make him come, and he moans.

“Ride me, Master, please!” Percy’s words coincide with him pushing back and forcing Credence almost all the way inside, and his own groan is drowned out by Credence’s, which is almost a howl.

“Sweet Jesus,” the boy mutters. “I… oh God!” His hands clutch at Percy’s hips then, and he starts to thrust.

Percy helps his pacing with judicious counter-thrusts, leaving the tempo up to Credence, but when the boy’s movements get faster and faster, and his cock fills him perfectly each time, he starts to wonder how much more he can actually take. To feel that innocence slipping away, essentially buried inside him, while the boy loses his inhibitions, is more powerful than any mere physical sensation.

“Good pet,” Credence moans, entirely unexpected.

Percy purrs, almost literally. Moans are spilling from his mouth non-stop, and he bows his head. The leash is dangling from his collar, and he takes it and flicks it over his shoulder. “Tame me, Master, please!”

There’s a momentary pause. Credence is breathing harshly behind him. And then the collar around his neck shifts, turning sideways, and tightens. Not painfully, just taking a little of his capacity to breathe away, and Percy lifts his chin, gasping open-mouthed, wishing he could see the boy holding the leash, looking a little wild and reckless and powerful.

“Master,” he pleads, husky now, “let me see you, please.”

The pressure around his throat stops, and the pressure inside his slick channel lessens, as the boy withdraws. “How?”

Percy rolls over, onto his back, spreading his legs wide, looking up at the dark eyes pleadingly.

“Oh.” Credence wastes no time, and just as well. He’s _dripping_ , the tip of his cock a violent red.

That’s all Percy takes in before the boy thrusts back into him, supporting himself with his left palm on the ground beside Percy, the right holding onto the leash, wrapped a couple of times around his slim wrist as he yanks it a little, making Percy arch his neck. Percy grunts at being filled again, in one deep, fast stroke. He looks up into the beautiful eyes blazing now with a possessive thrill, pink mouth open, corners turned up into an almost-smile. He looks magnificent.

“Beautiful... Master,” Percy manages to gasp with his restricted air flow.

Credence whines a little, thrusting once, twice more, before he freezes, trembling as he empties himself into Percy’s body, bowing his head and letting the leash go to catch himself on both hands.

When it tumbles down to slide over the tip of Percy’s hard, flushed cock, he comes too, making a sticky mess all over the leather, his own belly and groin, and Credence’s, when the boy’s strength gives in and he collapses on top of him.

Percy wraps his arms around him and holds him close, smiling at the soft sigh against his neck.

“Was that…”

“Consider me tamed, Master." Percy's voice is gratifyingly raw. "I’m at your command.”


	2. Chapter 2

“How much longer do I have this room with you?” Credence asks, heart still racing, more than a little flustered.

He’s a filthy mess, but Percy has the worst of it, sticky semen leaking from his hole, as he climbs out from under Credence, and moves to return to the hidden drawer, pulling out a pack of baby wipes. “Probably five minutes.” Percy says, regretfully.

“Oh, okay.” Credence replies, feeling a touch panicked.

“This will do for now,” says Percy, indicating the wipes. “As for that question, I’m afraid we should probably find a new location to chat, or whatever, because the floor manager will want to rent this room out,” Percy says calmly, cleaning himself first, then moving to wipe down Credence’s softening cock, making him jump a little. 

“Hmm. Okay. Where should we go?” He asks.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. How do you feel about a late night snack? There’s a diner I know, not far from here. They’re open all the time, so me and the crew usually go when we get off around four.” Percy says, before correcting, “That’s a.m., not p.m.” 

Credence whistles. “That’s a long day, wow.”

“Luckily I got off early tonight.” He smirks, and Credence blushes at the innuendo. “So, you want to go on a dinner date? Lemme just go throw something on, and we can get out of here. Wanna take my car?” 

Credence nods silently, a bit in awe, despite all they’ve done. Once they leave the room, he finds Queenie and goes over to give a heads up that he’s leaving with Percy.

She winks at him and whispers for him to text her in the morning, and she’ll pick him up, wherever he’s at.

“Thank you,” Credence says, smiling.

She squeezes his hand and tells him to go follow Percy.

Out in the parking lot, Percy leads him to the least flashy car of the bunch, a navy blue Prius, with a dusty looking spoiler on the trunk. Credence is about to say it looks dependable, and Percy interrupts him unknowingly. “Sorry it’s not a Porsche. I choose to invest most of my money in useful places.” He says, with a hint of a smirk.

“Oh! That’s okay. I think function is better than flash. That’s what I was taught growing up.” Credence says.

“Ah, so you are a practical date.” Percy grins and buckles up, as Credence does the same, before they take off smoothly, with the man driving like he knows the city as well as if he’d grown up there.

“Where are you from?” Credence asks.

“A little suburb called the Upper East Side. I grew up spoiled, rich, a trust fund baby. I threw it all away when I decided I didn’t want to follow in my dad’s footsteps, becoming a boring ass lawyer, or worse yet, a politician,” Percy answers, looking a touch wistful, or maybe just lost down memory lane. Credence keeps asking personal questions, and it lasts them until they pull up to the diner, get inside and seated and, even through ordering, Percy humors him. 

But as the food comes, Credence realizes maybe it’s time for him to answer some questions too. Percy blinks, seemingly expecting more things thrown at him, but Credence just smiles sadly. “Okay, your turn.”

“Why do you look so nervous? Got a serial killing past I should know about?” Percy asks teasingly, and Credence blushes. 

“Gosh, no! I just… well, I was raised quite religious, conservative, before I got kicked out at fourteen,” he says.

Percy goes a little pale, “Oh wow. What happened after that? Did your mom get in trouble?” 

Credence shrugs. “Not really. She wanted me gone. I didn’t have to do anything but keep going to school, my grades stayed up. I slept in the library and used the locker room showers, until I got caught after a month. I was sent to foster care. With the Goldsteins.” 

“Well, that makes me feel better. You got a great influence on you, during your most formative years.” Percy says, viciously stabbing a bite of waffle perhaps a touch more aggressively than strictly necessary. 

Credence smiles a little. “Yeah. They were religious too, but they didn’t force it on me. It was there, like, an option to attend Shabbat with them. Never an obligation.” Credence pecks at his own food, hoping desperately Percy doesn’t think too badly of him. 

What if he’s religious too? Though, come to think of it, maybe the animal kink thing is a sect all its own. He stares at his plate until it’s blurry. After a moment of this, he hears his name being called, and he looks up to see Percy watching him, looking a bit concerned. 

“Everything okay? You sort of zoned out there for a bit.” 

“I, yeah, I’m fine. Ready to get out of here though.” Credence says. The idea of being somewhere quiet, dark, and soothing with Percy holds much more appeal than dwelling on the past.

Percy nods, scooping up the check and heading to the front counter, closing their tab.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand,” Credence hears, and then a hand takes his, fingers lacing through his own. He’s stunned, but as he glances around the diner, while they’re leaving, no one seems to be giving them a second glance. Credence’s worst fears aren’t realized. He’s planning to tell Percy that though he was raised by a homophobic person, the Goldsteins more or less tried to teach him that everything he knew was wrong. 

It led him to a few revelations about himself, but it had still taken until tonight to be sure. 

In high school, he went to his proms alone. For homecoming, he brought Queenie. They danced all night together, brother and sister, happy as clams. He’d never yet had a girl catch his eye, and now it made sense. All this time, he’d been scared of what people might think, yes, but also scared of how he himself felt.

Percy drives them to a nice block of apartments, borderline houses, and Credence stares in awe.

“I rent a condo. It’s much better than a normal apartment, because I have the option to not furnish my own stuff. I just gotta pay for damages to this dude’s shit, if anything happens. No pets, no children.” He laughs, and Credence swallows.

“That’s neat. I didn’t know you could do that.”

Percy shrugs, and goes over to buzz open the front door, leading him through a mail room mixed with an atrium, towards the elevator. “It’s lucky. My landlord is awesome. He pays for the HOA fees, and I just pay a monthly bundle, utilities and such.”

He thumbs the button, and it opens immediately. Credence goes in first and holds the door for him, and the second it closes, Percy is on him, nosing in to kiss the side of his cheek, stubble grazing his jaw, tickling him in a way that makes his knees weak.

“You’re gonna stay the night, aren’t you? Let me wake up to these pretty eyes?” Percy breathes, and Credence exhales a shaky sigh.

“God, yeah. If you want.” 

Percy hums, “It’s why I asked, I’m selfish like that. Want all the time with you I can have.” He’s taking Credence’s hand again, thumb rubbing across the backs of his knuckles. “Please.”

They kiss until the elevator dings, stopping on Percy’s floor, and break apart. Credence takes in how flushed Percy is, how swollen his lips are, and he only wants one thing. More of what they’ve done. 

His thoughts go fuzzy as he yawns, and Percy fumbles with his keys, getting the door to his place open, ushering Credence inside. “Ooof, looks like someone’s feeling that two am hit. I could make coffee?”

“Oh, no, thank you. It’s just way past my bedtime,” Credence says, and Percy smiles. He makes sure the door is secured behind them, and then holds out his hand. Credence takes it, a touch apprehensive. 

“Wash up with me?” Percy asks, and he nods.

“Yes please.” 

If Credence thought he liked the look of the condo, that’s nothing compared to Percy’s shower, and his entire bathroom, in fact. It screams wealthy indulgence, without being ugly about it. There’s a glass, four walled shower big enough for five people, at least, and a claw foot tub wide enough for four. As if Percy doesn’t have people clamoring to sleep with him. To be his master. 

Credence reminds himself this is entirely all thanks to Queenie, kindly setting him up with a gay man who’s far out of his league, and putting him in a situation outside of his element.

“My landlord may be a bit of a, uh-h-h poly freak, but he’s on sabbatical right now in Costa Rica, getting over his ex.” Percy says, by way of explanation.

Everything Credence has just assumed crashes down around his ears, and he nearly slumps over in relief. “Oh. That’s cool. Tina is dating a woman who’s in a triad.”

Percy quirks a brow at him. “Oh? So you know about those things. Well, forgive me for the derogatory word. I’m just old fashioned. I prefer dating one person at a time.”

In the meantime, Percy strips out of his casual things, a pair of sweatpants, a threadbare shirt, things he’d tossed on at the club before they left, then he’s climbing into the shower, looking back pointedly at Credence. “You coming?”

He has the mad urge to joke ‘Not yet,’ but he’s too afraid he’s assuming again. “Y-yes of course.” Credence methodically strips, and follows after the man, stepping under the lukewarm spray.

It heats up quickly enough, literally and mentally, with Percy easing behind him, snuggling close, inadvertently grinding his half hard cock against Credence’s ass.

He jumps a little, but goes with it, sleepiness and the lingering traces of alcohol, along with the delicious greasy meal for a late late dinner making him well at ease. He lets his head loll over onto Percy’s shoulder, arching his back to ensure their bodies remain touching.

Percy touches him, a hand sliding around from the curve of his waist to caress his groin, as the man’s lips kiss the side of his neck, before teeth make the kiss more of a nibble. “Credence, may I make you come?”

He nods, half delirious from the contact, and maybe the exhaustion creeping up on him. “Please,” he breathes.

“Do you mind if I try to do it without touching your lovely dick?” Percy asks, his other hand slipping back to tease along Credence’s cleft, making him alert all over again. The man’s fingertips graze over his ass, and then skip past his hole, rubbing over his perineum.

“Oh god…” He groans, and Percy smiles into his shoulder, he knows it.

“Not god, just me.”

The man’s thick fingers move to his hole again, and Credence’s eyes flutter closed, his hips thrusting weakly into the empty air, as Percy puts the hand he’d been teasing over his cock flat onto his stomach, bracing him close, keeping their bodies flush together. 

Percy only pauses briefly in his ministrations to grab for a bottle of fancy looking conditioner, with which he slicks his fingers and encircles his rim, before easing one inside of Credence’s ass. There’s a burn, a stretch, but Percy is gentle, slow, and the continuous pounding water from the shower keeps him relaxed, the only friction he gets over his cock, while the man’s hands keep him relatively still.

His cock swells, thick, hard and curving up against his stomach from how he’s draped over Percy’s chest, and he gasps a little, when he feels the man’s finger graze something inside of him that makes lights dance behind his closed lids.

“Oh god!” Credence whines, and Percy chuckles. 

“And there it is.” The man adds a second finger, which Credence barely notices, there’s not a hint of pain. It’s a concentrated burst of pleasure, every time Percy’s fingertips rub over that spot inside of him, his cock twitches, blurting out precum. Heat coils in his gut, slower than when he jerks himself off, but still the same recognizable zip of arousal through his veins, spreading throughout his whole body.

Percy rocks into him, thrusting himself against Credence’s inner thighs, wet and slippery from the water and excess conditioner. “C’mon baby, come for me. Go on, that’s it.” 

Credence thinks dazedly there’s another finger inside of him, and he lets out a moan that tapers off into a whimper, as Percy bites down on the side of his neck, at the juncture of his shoulder and collarbone. He’s helpless to resist. He falls over the edge while Percy clutches him tightly, almost entirely wrapped around him, skin to skin, the heat of the water making him pant for breath, while his orgasm slowly ripples through him. His cock spits and spurts out lazy ropes of come, while Percy milks him, breathing hard against his back.

“God, lovely—”

The man breaks off, stiffens against Credence, and he thinks, impossibly, Percy has to have been fucking his thighs, how else could he come too? The warm slick between his legs is unmistakable. For the rest of the shower, Credence stands on shaky knees, feeling like a newborn fawn, while Percy cleans them both, puts his hair under the water, shakes it like a dog.

He laughs a little, but he can feel the tiredness in his marrow. The second the water shuts off and he’s handed a towel, Credence thinks he might actually fall over. Percy catches him by the arm, and scoops him up into his arms, sweeping him off his feet. 

He squeaks, but soon lands on a soft and cushy surface—the man’s bed. 

Credence squirms and stretches, feeling deliciously relaxed, fresh washed, and so very happy. Percy slips in beside him, and pulls a blanket over his nude body, keeping his distance, letting him approach, Credence guesses. So he does.

Blindly, he reaches out, and scoots his way into and against Percy’s side, under his arm, tucked close to his chest.

“Goodnight,” he breathes, and Percy kisses his temple.

“Goodnight to you as well, Credence.”

* * * * * *

Every single thing about waking up the next morning is unlike Credence’s usual experience. He’s naked. He feels warm and comfortable, held close to another body—also naked. His scent is mingled with another’s, and yet there’s a common note from some kind of shower product. The bed linen feels unfamiliar and exceptionally soft. He wakes up with a smile, knowing exactly who’s spooning him.

Percy sighs and mumbles something incoherent when Credence turns in his arms, not quite awake yet himself but instinctively drawing him even closer, confirming what Credence felt when he first woke up.

Credence snuggles into the strong arms with a pleased little moan, nose rubbing against Percy’s neck, lips pressing light kisses against the pulse point at the base. He decides to be bold and slides his hand down his abdomen to cup the hard cock which is rapidly waking up his own libido.

“Mmm,” Percy moans, smiling softly.

Not knowing whether Percy is fully awake or thinks he’s still dreaming, Credence squeezes a little harder, fingers curling around the lengthening shape, stroking up and down. His hand is too dry, and he wishes he had something slippery, like that conditioner they used in the shower during the night. He lets go, smiling at Percy’s displeased grunt, and raises his hand to lick the palm lavishly. The skin tastes musky and a little salty, and he loves it. When he wraps it around Percy’s cock again and moves it up and down, the friction is lessened, and Percy’s soft groan makes his skin tingle.

“Never wake up a wildcat unless you feel like being played with,” Percy’s voice rumbles.

Credence stifles a giggle. “Morning, kitty cat.” He nips at Percy’s neck, whimpering at the growl and spurt of precome this brings about simultaneously. “Maybe I want to be played with.” He licks a wet stripe up Percy’s neck and over the touch of stubble below and around his chin. “Maybe I want to be tossed around a bit and swiped with your tail.”

There’s a low, dirty chuckle from Percy. “Are you sure that’s what you want me to do with my tail? Give you a swipe?”

“Or… maybe…” Credence pretends to think hard, resuming the strokes he had all but stopped with more intensity, “... you could put it inside me?”

Percy’s eyes fly open, his hand at once stilling Credence’s on his cock. “Fuck, yes.”

Credence shivers at the look in his eyes and, for a moment, he does feel as if he’s foolishly wandered into a wildlife park.

“No need to look so scared, baby. I’m not going to hurt you.” Percy seems to make an effort to soften his gaze. “You just keep bowling me over.” He drags his arm out from under Credence and plays with the curls at the back of his head. “That sweet, shy look hides a very surprising boy.”

Credence smiles. “So… how do you want me?”

Groaning, Percy takes Credence’s hand off his cock altogether and presses it into the pillow, along with the other one, and shifts until he’s pinning him down. “Desperately. That’s how.”

Credence tests the grip on his hands and gulps. He can’t shift them at all. That awareness makes him intensely hard, and he knows Percy can feel it, grinding down against him.

“Do you want me to work you open with my fingers or my tongue?”

“I… your tongue? Oh, god, that’s an option?” Credence asks shakily.

Percy laughs darkly. “It sure is. You know how felines enjoy licking.”

Credence feels himself dripping between them just from the way Percy is talking. “I’m not… um, not tidy… down there, like you are.” He blushes furiously.

Percy smiles. “You think I haven’t seen every part of you yet? Or that I mind? It’s just a personal preference for myself.” He presses a tender kiss to Credence’s cheek. “You’re so beautiful all over, baby. I love our contrasts.”

Credence sighs happily. He’s never felt so cherished in his life. “Okay. I guess… your choice then.”

“Right.” Percy gives him a wink, releases Credence’s hands, and lifts his hips to push a thick pillow under them. He pushes the bedding down and firmly grips Credence’s thighs to heft them over his shoulders.

Credence bites his lip, feeling utterly exposed, but he has no time to get overly embarrassed, because the moment Percy parts his thighs and dives in, starting with a long swipe up the underside of his dick, he forgets about everything but sensation.

Percy wasn’t kidding about loving to lick things. His tongue lavishes his cock, his balls, his perineum and, finally, pushes up against Credence’s tightly furled hole.

Credence is gasping out a litany of pleas interspersed with sounds of disbelief and, when the tip of the searching tongue breaches him, he moans long and loud, and is rewarded—for being noisy, he supposes, with the leaking head of his cock being cupped and squeezed. The double stimulation lasts until the tongue moves in and out of him freely, each stab of it feeling like miniature fireworks going off inside him. He jolts in surprise when, alongside his tongue, Percy wriggles a single finger into his hole. It slides in easily because it’s wet and sticky with his juices. ‘Oh,’ Credence thinks. Oh.

Percy is slurping at his hole, keeping the probing finger wet, twisting and circling it to widen his channel. He smiles up, without interrupting what he’s doing, at the sight of Credence’s deep flush and dropped jaw. When, adding a second finger, saliva is no longer enough, he reaches to the bedside table for the lube.

Credence watches while Percy coats his fingers, gulping at the hunger in the older man’s eyes when they look up to meet his. He jolts when two slick fingers push into him, not because it’s in any way painful, but because even the brief absence of any kind of intrusion into his body left him feeling emptier and needier than he would have thought possible.

“Relax, baby. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Credence nods. He knows. Oh, he knows. He’s been feeling good since Percy started dancing for him the night before, and every so often, good has become ecstatic since then. He’s not sure what he’s going to do with himself after today, so he resolves not to think about it.

Not thinking turns out to be easy then, because the fingers inside him soon wreck him utterly, reducing him to a whimpering mess. His cock is dripping profusely, semen puddling on his stomach, while they thrust and circle and probe until he nearly screams when they hit the exact right spot.

“You should see yourself,” Percy all but growls, looming over him, pushing Credence’s knees up until only his shins rest on his shoulders.

“Please,” Credence whines, trying to grind down on the probing fingers but having very little freedom of movement in his jackknife position. “Want you, Percy. Want you in me.”

Groaning, Percy applies yet more lube, then guides himself inside with his right hand while the left clutches a quivering thigh. He watches the boy nearly shake himself apart under him, but there’s no sign of pain, so he keeps going in a long, slow slide until he’s all the way inside the slick heat. He’s panting against Credence’s long neck, with his eyes closed, trying not to come immediately like a teenager.

Credence is panting too, clinging to him as if to stop him moving, to stop him withdrawing even long enough to thrust back in. “You feel so good,” he gasps.

“That’s my line, baby,” Percy informs him huskily, and the spell is broken long enough for them to share a light laugh and for him to support himself with both hands on the bed on either side of Credence, and to start a slow, at first gentle, pattern of thrusts.

Credence’s eyes are fixed on his, dark and pleading, providing both an anchor and a demand to keep going. The boy’s hands were on his broad shoulders but, in this new position, they’ve ended up flung back on the pillow again, on either side of the curly head, looking almost as if they’re still being pinned down by some invisible force.

The submissiveness of the pose drives Percy wild, and his thrusts speed up. He’s paying careful attention to any signs of discomfort, but there are only open-mouthed gasps and whimpers, and both verbal and non-verbal pleas for more. Faster. Harder. He can do all those, and he does. And then he does pin Credence’s hands again—first one, then both, as he drives into him hard enough to make the bed protest even while the boy looks like he’s in heaven.

“Oh god!” Credence moans. “Don’t stop, Percy. I’m so close.”

Hearing that nudges Percy dangerously close to his own climax, and he bites down on his bottom lip to distract himself with pain, then decides the smooth expanse of Credence’s neck looks infinitely tastier. He leans in, teeth grazing the pale skin, tongue dragging over the same spot, and there’s a groan from the boy, and a full body tremor, and wetness spreads between them.

“Fuck!” Percy gasps against the spit-slick neck, his climax drawn out of him by Credence’s and the unconscious clenching of the boy’s channel around him. He’s shaking, staying exactly as he is, collapsed on top of Credence and inside him, until well after the last shudder has stopped.

“That was…” Credence starts, then can’t seem to think of a description, just lying there limp and full and wearing a sated smile.

Percy is enthralled by it when he lifts his head. All he can think to do with that beautiful smile is to kiss it until they’re both breathless. The first thing he says when he has his breath back is, “Stay with me, Credence.”

Credence’s eyes are wide. “Today?”

“Today. Tomorrow. Every day.” Percy releases one of his hands and strokes back a sweat-damp curl from Credence’s forehead. The slight shifting of his body causes a warm dribble of his fluids from Credence’s hole, even while they’re still connected, and they both shiver pleasantly. “For as long as you want to be with me.” He doesn’t add that he hopes for an indefinite length of time, but he suspects he looks and sounds sufficiently lovesick to give himself away.

Credence gives him a slow smile. “That could be a long time,” he says, as if that should be a warning. “I get very attached.”

Percy returns his smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

 

THE END


End file.
